What War May Come
by Manamosy
Summary: The monument to all their sins.


W͙̰͇͎̱̤ͧ̅ḧ̥̤̝̜̬̱ȁ̟͙̣̋̀t̤͎̩̻͑̀ͭ̓ͥ͋ ̖̲͓̂͋̌̂̈̚̚w̪̳͎̥̗̃ͨ̾̂̈́ͯͥa̞̟̣̬̲̤͉ͥͥ̈ͣr͕̰͕̭̘̗ͬͦͅ ͂͆ͪ̂ͯ̋̓m̹̻̙͍̗̉ͮ̈́͐a̲y̔̎̈́ ̩̫̓́̒̇̈̆̂cͣo̮̙̻̮͉̭̭m͕̞̺̤̓̈̈͛ͫͨ̊ȇ̮̮̠̟̓̌

"We had to bury what we knew. Push it down so far that billions of years of entropy couldn't blow away the surface of what we had done. An existential abomination beyond the facet of crime. If the Mantle had judged us, it judged us adequate by default, but doomed to drift alone in the darkest corners of the vast single verse. Even the Humans had been broken down by our nature to dominate. Unemotionally, we tore them into their ancestral counterparts and watched them devolve into cave dwelling animals, sifting through the dirt looking for some resemblance of what they were"

H̙͖̤͚̋o̬̘̠̻w̬̹͒ͬ͆̐͌̽ ̤͓̳͚̀́̏ͭ̉͊ͩc̤͇͔̼͔̞͒̑̇͗ỏ̼̖̠̖̻̲̺u͇̠̯͈̞͔̬l̠d̯̟̻̱̜̙ͬ̃͛ ͉͉̭̫̖̰̤͌̌̈́w̤̞ͪ̂̋ͫ̊́ͥẽ̮̯̘̞̘ ͉͕ͣͧͮ̿h͖͍̰̥̎͗ͩͅa̩̙̫̣͌̚v̔e̪̦ͬ͗̉̆ ̲͓̮̐̿͛̈́k̲͇͔̯̻̫ͥi̲̻͈̰̹̟̯͛̑́̈l̥̗̰̬̦̎̈́̔͑ͪḻ̠̩̮̳̹ͥ̉̓ͤͨ̊ed̲̤͎̥̘͈̘͌ͧ͒ͯ ̦͔͕̹̺̺ͭẗ̗̣̥́̽́̌̚̚h̙̻̫̦̀ė̝̹͇͓͔ ̟g͇̻̣̾̽̀̓̏͗ö̖̤͖́͗̊͌ͯ̈ͅͅd̦͉̥͔͕ͮ̂ͧ͐s̳̿

"Our technology could not come with us, it allowed too much access back through the folds of space. We had to forget, to allow our children innocence. They could not know of what we had done. Many decided to remove what made them immortal, so that the free-radical universe could break them down into dust. Some stayed in that other galaxy, shunted themselves onto a barren planet and started a new without the hindrance of technology. Using only ancient techniques to survive just barely"

T̫̾ͫ̎ͯh͌̇̈́͗͌e̬͚͈̳̱͂͗i̓͂ͬ̈́ͫr̖̭͙̦ͣ ̹̫̜̗̗̹̾̑̃͊̑̑g͉̘̜̉ͤ͑ͯ́r̼̫̘̪͚͐̉̑ͬͥ̂a͈̩͖̣̺ͭ͌̋̋̑̈ͣv̩͍͓̞̓e,̤̒̒͐̀͋ͮ ͈̞͔͎̭ͤ͛̚Th̞̳̻̬̖ͅȇ̮ͨ̅ͣͥir̘̟̱̦͗ ̉͗͗̏̃̂m̦̤̥͍̩̣̻͗͛ͭ̚ọ̠̲̫̓̍̽ͭͨ̚n̜̙̗̓̓̑̎̿ͭù͍̩̑̌̉̈́ͫ͋m̠̱̫̭̤ͯe̮̲̽n̬̳̤̫̞t̻̻̋̚

"Path Kethona, a cluster of stars local to our galaxy, local in comparison to the vast space beyond. A grave for them and for what we had left behind. Billions of ships, artifacts and constructs strewn across a galaxy of dead Precursor structures, we knew they had gone when the star-roads stopped. Unbending yet shifting over and around the planets, dead and yet still moving to avoid the spiralling masses throughout the galaxy"

T̝̬̟̪̹̻̗̋̏̈́ͥ̊h̼̙̤̳̟͕̹͐̄̋̒̑̌̇ĩ̹̯̠͔̩͕s̯̬̜̭͇̏̅ͫ̊͊ͧ̚ͅ ̙́̈̓ͧ̉̚p̘̽̅ͦ͑͒ͭl͖ͪ̅́̑̇ã̱̭͋c̲͉̬̓͗̈́̿̑̇e͚̽͐ ̺͔̥̂ͣ͋̑̇i̲̯͌ͯ͌s͈̫̫͔ͦ́ ͎̆̽̍̈́͌͂͌ḫ͚̳̠͍̚a̞̬̝̺̫͇̋ͦ́̌͛̿u̺̼̺̝̟̱̓ͬ̈́͑͐ṉ̦̲̘̹̬͕ͦ̒t̓̈͐́̈́ͤͮë͍̠ͤ̏̆͋ͤd͙̠͍ͨͪͬ̀̒

"Although we lost most of the Domain, we still had access to what little Precursor's had scratched into the medium that housed billions of years of memories. Fragments of times before flickered through at random, like ghosts falling through time. We were haunted by our sins. Forerunners tasked with maintaining connection with the Domain would disappear at random with only traces of spectral anomalies evident to the event that took them. Precursors believed the Universe was sentient. That all matter was simultaneously living and dead, in a way that we could not understand. The Domain was a way for them to stay alive. Their transentience gathered in the gaps between space. Somewhere outside our four dimensions. We knew of dimension five, it allowed access to speeds beyond that of light. Slip-space, the first four dimensions wrapped around Slip-space like a blanket, jumping through the gap and back again caused huge cracks in causality but meant the traversal of thousands of light-years, in seconds"

Ṫ̳͈̝̤̻͇̔̈̚h̳͙̫͓͙͖͂ͪ́ͦͧ̓ͬeͫͨ̎̐ ̩̃s͙̤͙̗̣̯̣i̲͊ͬ̇ͣͥ̒̒xͥ̿̔̍̋ͪͦt̤̰͚ͦͥ̽h͍͕̫̮̘̭͒̋ͫ́ ̳̤̬̪̮̋ͪw̘̜͍͑̑ͣ̆̓ͤa̦̺͇̯͙s̈̓ ͉̮̭͓̲̳͛̃ͅI̤̤͚̖̖̭̒ͧ̉͛̑n̹̯͙̖͍f̳̙͕i͍͙̠̪̝̮̓n̼͇̙̠͚̱̿̊ͥ̉̅̿̓i̝̻̱͖ͮ̏̃̿ͮ̃̀t̲͑ͬͯe͚̳̳͊̑̀̓̓̏͒

"Dimension six was barely known, only a vast infinite ocean of light. Infinitely bright but without energy, pure white and blinding, as if to hide something beyond the spectrum. What veil could hold us back. For the few that went into that timeless place, even fewer returned. Lost to the unreality bending around their presence, tracing out their very soul and binding it to the veil to conceal the truth further more. What reputable data we had, only shined light on our arrogance and ignorance and the folding gaps between the dimensions grew ever thinner as we sought to disrupt the very fabric of the universe"

S͓̫̖̭͑̌̍ͧ͑ͭ̚h̹͉̓̈́͌̂̍a̳̠͛ͦd͙̮̺̹͎̙͍̒ͧ̒̒̅ò̯̗͍̊̓̆̈́̋ͅw̬̮̥͎͍̺s͍̙͍̬̱̰̣ͩ ̬͙̘͔̳̠̇̒̆̓ȁ̭͓̠͑̆̃͐́̽ͅn̼̞͙͓̹͇͕̈́̑d̰̤̪̤̱̫͍͑ͦ ̟̥̠̜̩̫̒D̤̫̭̲̙̖͋u̟̞̘̾͌̎̆š͎̥͎̑̏̐̃̇̓t̳̳̭̂̐

"As if to spite us, the Universe would not allow us to breach any further. Our faculties were at their limit and our understanding of the Universe stagnated as we faltered under our attempts to blunt-force our way into the seventh dimension. Our last hope of resurrecting the knowledge that our keepers kept secret. What dreams had flowed from the very obscurity of the background Domain. Information leaked through like a sentient mist, forming in the mind. The Domain wanted us to know, that the living-time embodies and cascades the Universe. That we only had to reach out and touch it. We had lost ourselves in the Mantles grasp and with it we became the very thing we sought to destroy"

T̙̳̿h͆ͧ͂͗̓̅̎è̥̖͓ ̳̻̇̓ͦ̐Ḏ͎̝ͥ̂̆̐͐om͈͎̤̖ͭͫͪ̿ͫ̉a̙̫͎̳͐̓̈́̿́ͣi̩̣͊ͅn̊ͫ̃̊̚̚ ̻̂̓͑͆i̦͇̋̉̀̔̓s͉͇̟̫̫̥̥ ̔͒͛ỏ̲̹͍̑ͬp̌͋̎e̠͕n̫̭̥͐̍ͪͩͬ

Dͯͭ̾̏̋ͬͦō̜͕̟̬̙͇̉ͤn̰̹̼̣͓͇̘̓'͕̗̥̙͙͙̈́̈ͩ̇̇̌̌t̝ ľ͎̼iͧ̆s͕͚̖̱̹̤̜̀ͬ̆ͨͨ̀͒t̮̤̝̻̱̼ͪ̆̉͒̍ͅe̱̼̲̜̰̭ñ̦̯̟̗̘ ̙̼̼̱͋̿̃ͮ͌͊͐ṱo͔̫̙ͪͪȯ̗ͫͥ̓ ͚͔̣̺̳l͋͗̐́́ͭo͙͓̘ͨn͇̦͖̂ͯ̔ͨ̚gͫ̎̓ͭͤ̏̎

̱̊̐̀ͯT͔̝͕͊̓̅̄ĥ͚̳̖e̍y̫̘̪̱ͨ̂͗ͨ̄ ̫̰͎͈̈ͫ̚ͅȁ͔̳r͔̭̗̐ͨ̏͋é̱̠̲͇̻ͅ ͌w̳͖̹͇̆á̔́͛ͨt̬c̪̫̝̝̰̋̇ͤ͒̚̚h͉͉͕̘͋̋ͬ̑͒͐í͎͚̗̙n͚͖͈ͯ̽̏ĝͤͦ͆


End file.
